


Performance Enhancements

by WestOrEast



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bondage, F/F, Genital Piercing, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 10:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16700563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WestOrEast/pseuds/WestOrEast
Summary: Widowmaker has a new enhancement to help ensure mission success. Namely, she is unable to cum unless told so by a Talon leader. After her capture, the effectiveness of the modification is enough for several of Overwatch's heroes to have something similar done to them.





	Performance Enhancements

  
Widowmaker stayed stock still, drawing on her training to not move even a finger as she stared straight ahead. She barely even breathed, with only the minutest hint of her shoulders rising and falling. She was waiting, waiting for Doomfist to pronounce his verdict on her latest mission.  
  
“A success, I suppose,” he finally said, his deep voice rumbling in Widowmaker’s chest cavity. “Not as complete as I may have wished, but you still took out the primary target.”  
  
Widowmaker didn’t respond, didn’t even nod. She just kept on staring straight ahead. Only those who knew her very well could see the hints of tension and anticipation on her blue face. Doomfist stared at her and snorted.  
  
“You can head down to the barracks. They’re waiting for you, along with today’s codes.”  
  
“Yes, sir,” Widowmaker said, turning on her heel and heading for the door.  
  
She was aware that she was putting even more sway into her stride than normal, but didn’t try to fight it. After all, why would she? She had just been rewarded, and now she wanted, _needed_ to claim it.  
  
Even with the new rewards that had been added to Widowmaker’s incentives structure, she still didn’t like her new implants. But it literally wasn’t in her to complain about them. All she could do was collect her reward for a job well done.  
  
It didn’t escape Widowmaker that the reward for a job well done was the same as the punishment for a failed mission. Or what happened to her even during her leisure hours. But what could she do about it? Talon had done this to her, and she had to do what Talon thought was best.  
  
That was why Widowmaker was on her way to the barracks. Not to the apartments, where Doomfist and Sombra and Reaper and herself slept. But to where the security guards, the technicians, the clerks, where the common, uniformed grunts were. And were they would be waiting for her.  
  
Widowmaker’s heels clacked on the tiled floor as she walked. Her body language was becoming more relaxed, as she thought about the reward waiting for her. To get gangbanged, to get used a sex toy by a horde of men with one tenth of her talents and skills. And she would still enjoy it. Because she had completed a mission successfully.  
  
If Widowmaker had _failed_ a mission, she would also be on her way down to the lower levels. But with one crucial difference. The men waiting for her wouldn’t have the control codes she would need to orgasm.  
  
That was the only way Widowmaker could cum anymore. When, after doing a mission correctly, Doomfist dispatched codes to the barracks that would let Widowmaker orgasm. It was up to the men waiting down there to apply the codes, and they would only do so after Widowmaker had started getting fucked by them.  
  
Of course, Widowmaker was sent down there after unsuccessful missions as well. Or even during her free time. The French assassin spent a great deal of her time getting her blue skin painted white by the endless hordes of men Talon employed.  
  
Widowmaker didn’t like doing this. At least, she thought, sometimes, that she didn’t like it. But if she didn’t, why were her nipples stiff points underneath her rubber bodysuit? And why was her pussy so wet? As she walked down the empty halls, Widowmaker’s hands twitched to her crotch, the habit of years not quite accepting the lesson of the last month.  
  
Widowmaker hoped that the men would be feeling generous with their use of her codes today. She could cum so hard when they were used. And not at all any other way. That Talon knew about, at least. Widowmaker had spent an hour humping a vibrator when she had first had the new implants grafted into her, trying desperately to cum. She had stayed right on the brink for almost the entire hour, but had never once passed over it.  
  
Whereas she had cum three times in a row two days later, when the man taking her ass had been free with his use of the control codes. The realization of those two incidents had driven the intended message deep into Widowmaker’s mind. Only be serving Talon, could she find release.  
  
“Bonjour, mon amour,” a voice said behind her.  
  
Widowmaker stopped, and stiffened. Slowly, she turned around.  
  
“Your pronunciation is atrocious,” she sniffed.  
  
“You wound me,” Sombra said, smiling widely as she pushed herself off against the wall she had been leaning against. “I spend all those minutes studying, and you just dismiss my efforts like that?” She snapped her fingers.  
  
Widowmaker shifted from side to side, uneasy. It was good to see Sombra, though not necessarily because of her personality. Her skills interested Widowmaker a lot more. It was just a pity that those skills came wrapped up with someone so flighty and self-interested.  
  
“So, I heard you did a _good job_ in Rome,” Sombra said, circling around Widowmaker and running her clawed fingertips over the expanses of bare skin Widowmaker showed. “And now you’re trotting off to get your treat, tail wagging?”  
  
Widowmaker crossed her arms, glaring down at the shorter Latina woman. Sombra grinned sharply up at her, looking unbearably smug. Tapping her armband, Sombra brought up a holographic display. Widowmaker could see her own profile in one corner, and knew what Sombra was playing at.  
  
“You know, _I’m_ just as much a team player as anybody else,” Sombra said, not even trying to sound sincere. “Maybe if you were a good girl and asked nicely, I could give you a little reward too?”  
  
Widowmaker scowled and shifted her weight from one leg to another. She knew what Sombra was saying. And it was such an appealing idea. The chance to cum without having to get gangbanged for hours by the kind of scum that Talon employed. Instead of humiliating herself in front of dozens of men, all she would have to do was humiliate herself in front of Sombra.  
  
And then, hopefully, the hacker would use her illicit knowledge to let Widowmaker cum. If only that was a surer possibility. On several counts. Widowmaker couldn’t always find Sombra, and when she could, and after degrading herself in front of her, Sombra wouldn’t always give her the codes to let her cum.  
  
And yet, Widowmaker kept on coming back. Even after successful missions where she had earned the legitimate use of codes to let her cum, Widowmaker would still visit Sombra. Even with Sombra’s humiliating demands, it was still better to be used as a toy by her than as a toy by an endless stream of lustful men.  
  
“Sombra, please give me the codes,” Widowmaker said, starting off with the usual request, sure what the response would be.  
  
“What codes?” Sombra asked, all wide-eyed innocence with amused malice barely lurking below her eyes. “I’ve got _lots_ of codes, hermana. You want to know how to make the vending machines give you free snacks? I’ve got codes for that. You want to take a look-.”  
  
“I want the codes that will let me cum,” Widowmaker said tightly, a blush starting to appear on her cheeks. No matter how often she had to do this, it was still embarrassing.  
  
“Come?” Sombra asked, tapping her chin. “Come where?”  
  
Widowmaker closed her eyes, breathing in and out. Sometimes, it was hard to remember why she put up with Sombra. Like every time she talked to the other woman.  
  
“I want to have a screaming orgasm right here in the hallway,” Widowmaker bit out, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of purple. “So please give me the control codes I need to cum.”  
  
“Woah,” Sombra said, taking a step back, an exaggerated look of shock on her face. “That’s quite the thing to say, muchacha. Kind of sounds like the thing a _slut_ would say. Are you a slut?”  
  
“Yes,” Widowmaker said, using all of her mental strength to keep her gaze centered on Sombra’s eyes. “I’m a big enough slut that I want to beg random women for the ability to cum. I don’t care that I’m out where anybody could see me, I’m horny enough I want to cum so hard I fall onto the ground, shaking and screaming in orgasm.”  
  
The worst part was, well, the _worst_ part would be if Sombra didn’t give her an orgasm. But the worst part that was actually happening right now was that Widowmaker was getting even hornier than she already was. Her body (and mind? Surely not) had started to associate degrading herself with pleasure and now Widowmaker, already a bundle of nerves and need barely kept under control by her imposed conditioning was getting more lustful than ever.  
  
“That _does_ sound like the kind of problem a slut would have,” Sombra said, smiling widely as she stared at Widowmaker’s scantily covered body. “And I suppose even sluts like you deserve some pleasure. Maybe if you ask me really, really nicely, I could do something to help you out.”  
  
Widowmaker closed her eyes and sighed. She would have to swallow her pride for this. Again. And, a thought in her head that sounded far too much like Sombra for comfort added, she had already swallowed plenty before now.  
  
Widowmaker’s knees hit the floor. That still put the top of her head level with Sombra’s chest. Staring up at the Latina hacker, Widowmaker narrowed her eyes.  
  
“Sombra, I am literally on my knees in front of you. Please tell me the codes I need to cum like the nasty whore I am.”  
  
Widowmaker was so, so glad that nobody else was around to hear this, even though she suspected Sombra was recording every second of it on her computer. She could feel her arousal dripping into her clothing, soaking into the sanitary pads she had been forced to repurpose after an embarrassing incident in front of Reaper. And she could tell that her nipples were getting stiff enough to poke out from the material covering them. It was humiliating, being in front of Sombra. And she was turned on. Turned on, and dependent on Sombra feeling amused enough to give her the codes.  
  
“You do know how to beg, my little puta,” Sombra said, chuckling. “And because I’m such a nice and generous person…” she stared down at Widowmaker meaningfully.  
  
“Yes, you are,” Widowmaker said, not trying to make it sound believable.  
  
“I’ll give you what you want. This time, at least,” Sombra said with an overly toothy smile. “I’m going to need more than just words soon.”  
  
That sent a chill of worry through Widowmaker. But that really was a problem for later. Right now, she just needed the mix of numbers and letters Sombra had just pulled up on her wrist computer.  
  
“Alpha Three Romeo Zulu Five Slash French,” Sombra said, smiling down at Widowmaker.  
  
Widowmaker shuddered, her head snapping back. Pure, unadultered pleasure roared through her, filling every inch of her body. Her hips jerked back and forth, pussy gushing as her inner walls squeezed down around nothing. She groaned, the wordless sounds coaxed out from the very bottom of her soul.  
  
The orgasm was so complete there wasn’t room for anything else. Widowmaker had never cum like this before the upgrades, had never felt such pure, complete pleasure. She could barely think, and didn’t _want_ to. All she wanted was to keep on living in this timeless, wonderful instance of orgasmic bliss.  
  
It had to end, eventually. Widowmaker was left hunched over herself, panting for breath, staring down at the ground. She felt empty inside, like she had been hollowed out by the pleasure, and that nothing had been left in its place. She luxuriated in the feeling.  
  
Sombra’s mocking whistle of appreciation wasn’t enough to make Widowmaker look up. She just ran her hands over her body, feeling the warmth of her body through her gloves. In the afterglow of moments like this, she was almost grateful for her upgrades.  
  
“Aren’t you adorable,” Sombra said, reaching down to pat Widowmaker’s cheek. The sniper slowly focused her gaze on Sombra, narrowing her eyes. “Big bad sniper, panting like a bitch in heat from a few simple words.”  
  
Sombra straightened up and closed her holo displays. She smiled down at the panting French woman.  
  
“I’m off to go be a good, loyal part of the organization,” Sombra said, stepping around Widowmaker and heading down the corridor. “You have fun getting stuffed with cock or whatever it is you spend your free time doing.”  
  
Widowmaker didn’t watch her go. Instead, she sat, slumped on the floor, slowly waiting for her strength to return. And pondering what she should do next. That orgasm had come after six solid days of nothing, nothing but training, training, and getting fucked by the cocks of cooks whenever she was free. Widowmaker was feeling blissfully relaxed at the moment, without a trace of arousal left in her system.  
  
So where should she go next? To her own quarters? Or down to the barracks as she was expected to? If she did, Widowmaker knew that while she would get more repeated orgasms than she did from Sombra, she would also get far more humiliation. Maybe not the verbal debasement Sombra delighted in, but listening to the jeering crowd as hot, sticky cum splashed all over Widowmaker’s face could be just as bad.  
  
And there was the fact that they would keep on fucking her long after they had used the control codes on her. Widowmaker knew from experience that sessions with Talons grunts would leave her shaking from repeated orgasms, and still feeling horny from the arousal they had stirred up inside of her.  
  
No, Widowmaker thought she wouldn’t be visiting the barracks today. One orgasm was enough for her. After all, she had another mission coming up in just two days. She could come again then.

*******

Widowmaker wasn’t certain how long she had been inside this cell. It wasn’t that she had been drugged, or that she couldn’t look outside the thick plastic window at the sky. It was because it was impossible for her to concentrate on anything but the fire burning her alive from the inside out.  
  
Widowmaker dimly remembered that it was supposed to just be a simple, easy mission. She probably wouldn’t even have had to fire her gun. In fact, it was supposed to be so easy that Talon had decided to field test her latest situational awareness tool.  
  
When, if, Widowmaker got back, she would report that the bullet vibrator inside her pussy had not been of a very great help. While it had been networked with her preexisting sensor suite, and it _had_ warned her of anyone with Overwatch tagged RFID chips, the buzzing as it sprung to life inside her pussy had been what alerted the security team to her presence. Also, it hadn’t shut itself off after letting Widowmaker know about the team.  
  
It had kept on going, the buzzing inside her making her knees go weak and directly leading to her capture. In fact, it was _still_ going, triggered by the guards outside her cell. Widowmaker wasn’t certain why the doctors hadn’t removed it when examining her after capture. She had been too busy shaking and squirming, feeling the toy driving her right to the very edge of orgasm, and keeping her there indefinitely.  
  
And it hadn’t stopped buzzing since. Widowmaker could barely remember a time before the vibrator had gone off inside of her, wiggling against her inner walls with enough strength to drive her mad. If Widowmaker could, she would have ripped the toy out of her, tossing the endlessly buzzing toy to the floor. But it was quite literally attached to her, drawing the energy needed to power itself through her body.  
  
All Widowmaker could do was suffer through the endless pleasure, feeling the toy buzzing inside her, taking her to the very limit of pleasure. But not once, not in all the time Widowmaker had been in this cell, over. And Widowmaker knew it never would, not unless she got back to Talon and their command codes. All she could do until a plan of escape came to her increasingly frayed mind was wait and submit to the endless tests Overwatch’s doctors put her through.  
  
Widowmaker thrashed on her bed, long limbs twisting as the toy inside buzzed endlessly on.

*******

Tracer sighed as she looked over the paperwork that had come with her newest equipment. She skimmed through the dense, dry paragraphs talking about the labs had reversed engineered captured Talon technology. Apparently whatever they had developed had led to significant increases in performance for their operatives, so Overwatch was applying the same techniques to their own agents.  
  
There was an overabundance of facts, figures and graphs. But what was important to Tracer was the section dedicated towards her chronal accelerator. There was a ‘smart’ system built into now, one that read her body’s chemistry balance and bio signs. When she was in imminent danger, or at least realized she was in imminent danger, it would rewind, putting Tracer back three seconds. She wouldn’t have to consciously do a thing.  
  
Tracer nodded in satisfaction, looking down at the new, shiny chronal accelerator, still in its packaging. This should be a useful new feature for her to have, even if she wasn’t looking forward to the down time it would take to synchronize and swap out the new one for the one already anchored to her torso.  
  
Kicking back in her chair, Tracer shrugged. Well, it wouldn’t happen any faster if she spent a lot of time waiting around. Far better to get up and go then sit around and wait. Picking up the new chronal accelerator, Tracer headed for the labs.

*******

“Emily! Emily, Emily, Emil-!”  
  
In one instant, Tracer, or, since she was naked except for the chronal accelerator and in bed with her girlfriend, Lena, was throwing her head back, her inner walls tightening around Emily’s fingers. In the next, she was still naked and in bed with her girlfriend. But her orgasm was no longer cresting inside of her, bearing her over the edge into the blissful release of orgasm. Instead, she was a few seconds away from it, just as she had been six seconds ago.  
  
Lena’s eyes shot open wide. She cursed with all the skill a former pilot could muster. She knew exactly what the problem here was. She glared down at the chronal accelerator, still strapped to her torso and sitting underneath her breasts.  
  
“Lena?” Emily asked, two of her fingers still inside Lena’s pussy. She knew what the problem was too.  
  
Tracer’s newest equipment had some bugs that hadn’t really been worked out. And by far the worst bug of them all was the automated threat rewind protocol. Whenever Lena was about to cum, it interpreted the spikes in her bio signs as her being in danger. And rewound her, dragging Lena back three seconds. Again. And again. And again.  
  
Lena hadn’t cum once since she had gotten the new chronal accelerator installed, despite her and Emily’s increasingly frantic attempts to do so. But there was just no way to fool her body. Whenever Lena started to cum, to feel the tightness of the pleasure inside her body, she rewound, darting back. It was only a few seconds, not much more than the blink of an eye. But it was enough to ruin her climax.  
  
Emily drew Lena to her, wrapping her girlfriend in a hug. Lena tightly returned the gesture, locking her arms around Emily’s waist. Her hands pressed against Emily’s hips, scrunching up the fabric of the negligee Emily wore.  
  
“Damn it, damn it, damn it,” Lena whispered, her breath puffing against Emily’s skin and back against her face. She could _feel_ the need inside her, the relentless urge to fulfill her body’s pleasures. “I’m going to, to…” she trailed off, not thinking of anything she could do.  
  
“Pay another visit to R&D?” Emily asked, slowly rubbing Lena’s shoulders. “If you make a big enough pest of yourself, surely they’ll find some time to look into the bug.”  
  
“Oh, I’m a pest, am I?” Lena asked, looking up and smiling. Even the frustration of so many denied orgasms couldn’t entirely dull her sense of humor. “Always just buzzing around?”  
  
“Yes, but you’re _my_ pest,” Emily said, her freckled cheeks shifting as she smiled and bopped Lena on the nose.  
  
“And don’t you forget it,” Lena said, burying her face back against the crook of Emily’s neck and shoulder. She sighed heavily. “I’m just not sure what more I can say to them. The techies refuse to do anything without the proper paperwork, and I can’t get the stuffed suits to sign off on it.”  
  
“I know, sweetie,” Emily said, massaging Lena’s back. “Maybe you could…” she trailed off and sighed. “I’m not sure what.”  
  
“I can at least make you feel good,” Lena said, her face screwed up in the determined look that always did such wonderful things to Emily’s stomach. “Just sit back and let me take care of things.”  
  
“If you’re sure, honey,” Emily said, caressing Lena’s cheek. “If you want to go watch a movie or something in-.”  
  
“Nope!” Lena said, sliding out of Emily’s grasp and pushing her girlfriend down to the bed. “At least one of us should leave the bedroom feeling good!”  
  
Lena sounded a lot more at ease than she really felt. She _liked_ having sex. She liked feeling an orgasm rush through her and leave her feeling all warm and tingly. And not getting a single one in the past eight days (and twelve hours, seven minutes and thirty-four seconds, not that she was counting or anything) was a wee bit upsetting for her.  
  
Not that she was going to show that to Emily. Her girlfriend just needed to know that Lena was doing her best to get her chronal accelerator fixed so that the two of them could properly enjoy each other’s company like they used to. And part of that meant making Emily feel the pleasure Lena couldn’t.  
  
Emily kicked her legs apart, drawing her negligee up along her thighs, baring them to Lena’s hungry gaze. God, her girlfriend looked sexy. Lena lowered herself down in between them, running her hands along Emily’s thighs, feeling the muscles twitching underneath the skin.  
  
“Oh Lena, I love you. So much,” Emily said, lifting her head from the pillow and looking down at Lena.  
  
Lena smiled up at her as she ran her palms along Emily’s legs, drawing closer and closer to the valley waiting in between them. As she did so, she did her best to ignore the arousal pulsing between her own legs, the heat that was slowly dying down. Lena would have much preferred for the heat to have instead blossomed into a supernova, bearing her away with its pleasure.  
  
But the damned chronal accelerator stopped that from happening, so Lena would just have to tend to Emily, take a cold shower and then (sad to say) probably take out her sexual frustration on somebody who breathed wrong. But that was all in the future. For now, Lena had one sexy lady to take care of.  
  
Lena lifted Emily’s negligee up her past her hips, bunching the green silk away from her target. She looked down and sighed in happiness. Emily really did look pretty, no matter what part of her body Lena was looking at.  
  
Lena slowly moved her hands closer and closer to Emily’s crotch, in slow circles as she rubbed her girlfriend’s skin. Emily sighed, and Lena knew she was barely keeping herself from wrapping her thighs around Lena’s head. That was fun, when it happened, but it was a bit early to do that kind of thing. Instead, Lena went closer and closer to Emily’s pussy.  
  
Lena leaned her head forward and breathed over Emily’s groin. She smiled as her girlfriend shuddered. Seeing Emily like this was almost as good as feeling the pleasure for herself. Almost.  
  
Lena pushed those thoughts aside and went to work on Emily. She started kissing her girlfriend’s crotch and thighs in a spiral, slowly working her way closer and closer to Emily’s lips. She could see that they were already flushed with arousal and slightly parted.  
  
Emily made soft sounds as Lena made her way towards her pussy. Lena couldn’t look up at the moment, but she knew her girlfriend had the most adorable expression on her face right now. It was one Lena never got tired of seeing or making.  
  
Finally, Lena arrived at Emily’s lower lips. She planted a kiss on them, her tongue darting out to press against them for a moment. Emily groaned, her hips twitching underneath Lena.  
  
“Baby, oh, baby,” Emily moaned, her voice sounding like liquid sex and sending a shiver down Lena’s spine.  
  
“Shh,” Lena whispered, pressing Emily’s thighs apart. “Just lay back and let me take care of things.”  
  
Lena started to tend to Emily. She knew just how to use her lips and tongue and fingers, even her breath, to make Emily melt. And it was so fun to watch her girlfriend collapse into a puddle of satisfied lust. Although it would be just as fun right now for the same to happen to Lena.  
  
Running her tongue along Emily’s slit, one of Lena’s fingers busied itself with Emily’s clit, teasing that little nub out from under its hood of flesh. When Lena brushed by it, Emily gasped, and her back arced up, lifting her off the bed. Even with her face pressed against Emily’s crotch, Lena smiled. Emily had the best sort of reactions to this.  
  
“Please, give me some more,” Emily moaned, her hands reaching down to tangle themselves in Lena’s short hair. “I’m so close, I just need a bit more.”  
  
Lena could tell how close Emily was. Her girlfriend’s arousal was all over her lips and chin, and her lower lips had parted enough for Lena to easily slide a finger in if she wanted to. But Lena didn’t, and wouldn’t. She just needed to do a bit more work and…  
  
Emily moaned from the bottom of her lungs as she came. She twisted around on the bed, only kept in place by Lena’s grasp. Arousal splattered against Lena’s lower face as her girlfriend writhed in orgasm. It was a beautiful, sexy sight, and one that sent a throb of lust through Lena’s body.  
  
Her hands twitched with the need to reach down between her legs and masturbate. But Lena knew that wouldn’t do any good, and would just leave her in an even worse state. All she could do was keep her hands above her waist, and wait for the arousal to die down into a sullen black pool in her lower stomach.  
  
And tend to Emily. Emily, who was slowly settling down, the pleasure inside of her burning itself out. Sighing contentedly, Emily pulled herself up and looked down at Lena. A wide smile appeared on her face as she hauled Lena upwards in a hug.  
  
“Thank you,” Emily said, burying her face in Lena’s shoulder in turn. “That felt so, so good. I love you so much.”  
  
“I love you too, babe,” Lena said, returning the hug, hooking her hands together on the small of Emily’s back.  
  
They laid together for a while, relaxing in each other’s company. Lena’s active mind couldn’t stay still and quiet forever, though, and she soon started thinking about what she should be doing when tomorrow dawned. Go get some training in, talk to Winston about the new trouble in South Sudan, the usual day to day work.  
  
And, most importantly, she could go drag some answers out of R&D or the brass about how to fix her chronal accelerator.

*******

Mercy smiled as she closed the casing of her Caduceus staff. The last of the upgrades had been integrated into her equipment and weapons, and was ready for field use. It felt good to be done with it, since technology wasn’t Mercy’s strongest point, and she got twitchy whenever anybody else worked on her things.  
  
She had even been constantly hovering when Overwatch’s technicians had implemented the upgrades she didn’t have the skill to. She knew they didn’t like her constantly peering over their shoulders, but, since what they were working on could save not only her life, but the lives of so many others, Mercy hadn’t really cared. She wanted to make sure they did a good job. In fact, she had even insisted on only receiving local anesthesia during her surgeries, making sure she stayed awake to supervise the new cybernetics.  
  
And they had. Mercy approved of her new integrated equipment, though there were a few problems. Maybe. Mercy hadn’t quite decided if they were actually problems, or undocumented features.  
  
Mercy was horny quite often lately, and she knew it was because of her recent upgrades. Mostly, it was an increase in sensitivity. Her breasts felt very, very good lately, especially when they rubbed against her suit.  
  
That, in itself, wasn’t a huge surprise. Mercy _liked_ her breasts. The Caduceus tech she used on herself had some unexpected benefits to it, including making her breasts perfect, perky, and without any back pain from them. She didn’t even need to wear a bra, with the armor providing what little support she needed. And they were always sensitive, though not usually _this_ sensitive. Mercy normally needed to have her barbell piercings in her nipples for her breasts to feel _this_ good.  
  
But ever since the last round of upgrades, her breasts always felt good, piercings or no. In fact, they felt a lot more than good, especially when they were encased inside her armor, with a slight amount of pressure all around her curves. It was quite the sensation, one that would leave Mercy red-faced and panting after a few hours spent in the armor.  
  
That wouldn’t be too much of a problem, since fights were a great way to take Mercy’s mind off of how horny she was and onto more pressing matters. But the problem came back after the fight was over. In the privacy of her own quarters, Mercy found that it was really, _really_ hard for her to cum.  
  
Yesterday, she had spent over an hour and half, doing nothing but masturbating, and had only gotten a single, solitary orgasm. It had been awful. Mercy had been quivering with arousal, energy crackling inside of her, desperate for a way out. And she had lingered on the brink of orgasm for far, far too long before she had finally been able to push herself over the edge.  
  
The torturous time spent trying to find her orgasm hadn’t been the only problem with that, either. Mercy was a busy woman, with a lot of things to do. She couldn’t spend ninety minutes pleasuring herself, especially when all she got out of it was a single climax. And yet, Mercy wasn’t sure how she should solve this problem.  
  
Mercy obviously couldn’t spend an hour and a half of every day touching herself. And just as obviously, the pressure of anything on her breasts at all was enough to make her horny, even a light t-shirt (which, since she didn’t wear a bra, had its own problems whenever she got aroused). Therefore, mercy had to admit that she was horny, and would continue to be horny. So how to solve it? Invest in some sex toys? Mercy had never needed anything besides her fingers before, but a vibrator or a dildo might be just what the doctor ordered.  
  
Mercy tapped her fingers against the staff, staring into space. It was possible that she could mount that dildo on the inside of her armor, and get some more stimulation along with the pressure on her breasts. Not during combat missions, obviously, but it could easily give her enough to push her over the edge. Of course, if anybody ever found out what she was doing, the shame and embarrassment would be unbearable.  
  
Mercy didn’t think she would be requesting help from anybody else on Overwatch. Not in a sexual manner at least. Pharah had her own problems to deal with, and Mercy didn’t want to burden her complaints about how Mercy had to spend an hour and a half in her office masturbating. So that would leave her with either the option of finding new ways to sate her arousal, or to remove her latest Caduceus upgrades. And that wasn’t an attractive option either.  
  
Mercy sighed. It was something to think over, while distracting herself from the pangs of arousal with a few bars of chocolate. And then to keep on thinking over as she gave the other female Overwatch operatives the full physicals Command had insisted on. Everyone was getting a round of new upgrades, and the upper levels wanted to make sure there were no unintended side effects.

*******

Pharah twisted a bit, and winced at what happened due to that. She was still getting used to her armor’s new control systems, and how she would need to train her body out of doing her old motions.  
  
Despite how radical the new flight control system was, Pharah had to admit that it was an improvement over the old system. She was so much more agile now, the thrusters on her armor responding so much better. If only they had been able to figure out a better way to integrate the control and feedback systems.  
  
It was hard for Pharah to really relax, with the massive dildo that was inside her pussy. She had no idea how Overwatch had come up with this idea for the new control system, but it certainly wasn’t one _she_ would have thought of. Even with the responsiveness of it, Pharah had yet to tell anybody besides her girlfriend, Mercy, about how she was so agile in the air now.  
  
The dildo wasn’t just some crude lump of rubber. There were almost a dozen pressure pads along it. Whenever Pharah squeezed down, it would trigger her jump jets, propelling through the air. The harder she squeezed down around it, the more thrust would be applied.  
  
It had taken quite some time for Pharah to get used to controlling her suit again. There was a slight vibration throughout the suit when she used her jets, which included the dildo. That meant Pharah had taken several embarrassing flights into walls and the like, as she would squeeze down around the control rod, and trigger the jets. The vibrations would start up, buzzing inside her pussy, which would make her squeeze down even tighter.  
  
The feedback loop for that escalated right until Pharah had broken the beak of her armor against a wall. After that, they had moved to practicing with her new control system with the suit’s jets turned _off_. That had been a lot more successful, and, by the time the jets were reenabled, Pharah managed to stay on top of the feedback.  
  
It still made her very, very horny, though. The worst part was how hard it was for Pharah to cum from it. She would have thought that having a vibrating sex toy inside of her would have led to plenty of orgasms.  
  
Unfortunately, Pharah’s flights just weren’t long enough for her to get enough stimulation from the feedback to orgasm. And when she was on foot, obviously she couldn’t squeeze down around the rod, since then she wouldn’t be on foot anymore. And especially because the dildo didn’t vibrate inside her then.  
  
Pharah’s suit time had become divided into two categories. On foot, there was the thick dildo inside her pussy, teasing her with her inability to properly squeeze down around it and get the satisfaction she wanted. And in the air, Pharah could feel her orgasm rise and rise, and cut off long before she could actually get it.  
  
Luckily, Mercy was a _very_ attentive girlfriend, especially lately. Pharah could peel herself out of her suit, trembling and shaking, and Mercy would be right there to… _comfort_ her. And it really was an amazing level of comfort.  
  
Pharah didn’t need much help to get to an orgasm after a mission or training session. But Mercy was so desperately dedicated to her pleasure, that Pharah was rarely allowed to stop at a single orgasm. Instead, her girlfriend would drive her onwards and onwards, to ever higher peaks of pleasure.  
  
Pharah was usually a limp, boneless mess at the end of one of their lovemaking sessions. But it felt so good, she was never able to refuse. Refuse on those grounds, at least. She was starting to feel really guilty over how much pleasure Mercy gave her, and of how little Pharah managed to return.  
  
Pharah would have felt a lot worse about it if Mercy was giving her chances to return the pleasure. Instead, her girlfriend was all over her, constantly pushing and teasing Pharah and not giving her a chance to return the favor.  
  
Pharah knew the reason why. For whatever reason, Mercy had trouble cumming, not without a whole lot of time and attention devoted to it. Pharah was willing to devote the required time to her, but Mercy usually refused, saying that there wasn’t enough hours in the day to properly satisfy the both of them. And since Pharah could cum very, very easily, she was the one who got the attention lavished upon her.  
  
The attention was nice, but Pharah knew that relationships were built on give and take. She would have to find something nice to do or to give to Mercy. Chocolate was both too easy (Mercy constantly replenished the supplies of the stuff she liked) and rather expensive (Mercy hadn’t said one word to Tracer outside of business for a month after the British girl gave her a Hershey’s bar.)  
  
And since sex was what was making Pharah feel guilty about their relationship’s imbalances, maybe it should be a sexual act or present that she got. Pharah considered it as she walked, feeling the dildo inside her lightly brush against her inner walls with every step. Maybe Mercy would like a dildo of her own.  
  
Though Pharah was sure her girlfriend wouldn’t want it as part of her field equipment like Pharah had.

*******

Widowmaker wished she had the strength to bang her head against a wall. But the vibrator inside her was still humming away, just like it had for the past… She had no idea. Widowmaker had lost all sense of time inside her cell, caught in an endless, torturous loop of pleasure. There was nothing she could convince her body to do, nothing beyond twitching and jerking as the endless pleasure ran through her.  
  
And she knew she needed to marshal her strength, especially if she ever wanted to actually get the orgasm that had become her sole and defining goal. The message she had received had made that quite clear.  
  
Widowmaker didn’t know how Talon had managed to punch a message through Overwatch’s security, especially without the peacekeepers learning about it. But they had, probably thanks to Sombra. And that message had been unambiguously clear. If Widowmaker wanted to cum, she would have to escape Overwatch and make it back to a Talon safehouse. And it would have to be _her_ escape. Talon would only help her once she made it off of the Overwatch base.  
  
Widowmaker knew that would be hard. It was so, so hard for her to do anything but play with herself. She only wore the shreds of clothes, now, the tattered remnants of the prison uniform they had put her in. Widowmaker had destroyed everything else masturbating.  
  
Even now, she was clutching at a breast, her fingers sinking into her soft flesh as her palm rubbed over her nipple. It felt good, it felt so good to play with her body, to feel the pleasure thrumming through her. And no matter how good it felt, it was still a long, long way from getting an orgasm.  
  
Just as Widowmaker’s left hand was playing with her breasts, her right was buried in between her legs. Two fingers were pumping in and out of her pussy, while her thumb ceaselessly stimulated her clit. She knew it should hurt, but the pleasure from her hands and the vibrator still inside her overrode the pain, washing it away in the horrible pleasure that was all Widowmaker could think about.  
  
Widowmaker knew about the camera that had been installed in her cell. It wasn’t standard procedure, even for someone as dangerous as her. But the guards _loved_ the sight of her endless masturbatory haze, and she had heard them laughing about the tapes they made of her.  
  
Thankfully, that could actually be her way out of her, Widowmaker thought, fragments of thought making their way around the pleasure spiking inside of her. If they weren’t constantly monitoring it, she could use it to escape. She wasn’t sure of all the details yet, but she would make them work. She had the skills, she had the training and, above all, she had the motivation.  
  
Right now, getting an orgasm was the most important thing in Widowmaker’s life right now. She would do anything to anyone if it meant she could hear those sweet, sweet codes that would leave her shaking on the floor in pleasure.  
  
The wet sounds of Widowmaker masturbating filled the room, the shlicking sound of her pussy squeezing tightly around her fingers as she started to plan.

*******

“Sheisse!”  
  
Bridgette swore as the screwdriver fell from her hands and clattered to the floor. She was a mess, she knew. Not just physically, with the grease stains on her cheeks and hand, or the cuts she picked up working with metal. But also internally.  
  
Bridgette was _horny_. She hadn’t been able to masturbate for the past couple of days. There just hadn’t been the time. Mostly because of all the missions she had been on. A group of bandits had taken far too much effort to put down compared to how big of a threat they were. And that meant arousal had been growing inside of Bridgette for the past few days, when she didn’t have the time to do anything about it.  
  
At least she should be free soon. She just needed to finish the repairs and maintenance that had piled up for her power armor, and she was free and clear. Maybe another half hour, and she could be back in her quarters, with her vibrator turned up so high she couldn’t feel her legs.  
  
A nice, simple plan. What could interrupt it?  
  
Two days later, Bridgette felt like putting her fist through a wall. She felt like there were a thousand red hot ants crawling around underneath her skin, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about them. Not for several more days, most likely.  
  
Bridgette thought it was both ridiculous and unfair that the captured Talon sniper, Widowmaker, had tried to escape right when Bridgette was wrapping up her repairs. When the alarms had sounded, Bridgette had of course responded. She had armored up and booked it for her duty station.  
  
And spent the next three hours doing nothing but standing around, followed by three minutes of activity. Widowmaker had led the entire base on a merry chase, before finally being forced to ground in the computer servers Bridgette was guarding. She had caught the arrogant French snob, but not before Widowmaker had managed to get the computers to overload in a multi-spectrum data and energy release. That had been bad, but Bridgette had done her duty. It was only later, when she finally got the order to stand down that she realized the horrible trap she had put herself in.  
  
Bridgette hadn’t had _much_ work to do before she had finished doing maintenance on her armor. But she still had to do some. And the three hours of combat time, even ‘combat’ time had taken its toll on her equipment. Several components of Bridgette’s armor had failed during the escape attempt. That sort of thing never usually happened, but usually, Bridgette had been able to bring her armor back up to one hundred percent functionality before she was deployed again. This time? She hadn’t.  
  
It wasn’t, considering everything that could go wrong with her armor, a very big malfunction. The power systems were still functional, the servos were at one hundred percent, all the things that could make her combat ineffective if they went wrong.  
  
The only problem her armor still had was that the auto locks on the pelvic girdle had been fried during the escape attempt. If only Bridgette had been able to spend a few more minutes of her repairs, she could have fixed it, solved it without any problems whatsoever. But she hadn’t, and when Widowmaker induced that pulse, it had fucked up her armor real bad.  
  
The pelvic girdle was the only part affected, thankfully. Bridgette could still get in and out of the rest of her armor easily enough. But the computer systems for the one remaining piece were fried shut, and there was no way to fix it. Overwatch’s IT staff were busy trying to salvage the base’s computers, and couldn’t spare the time to help with the intricacies of code and circuit that were beyond Bridgette’s skill level.  
  
And of course, the purely mechanical solutions weren’t even to be thought of, not while Bridgette’s fragile body was still wrapped up inside the armor. So she had an entire week to wait, cooling her heels until the IT techs could take a look at her fried systems.  
  
Thankfully, the waste removal function of her armor still worked fine so Bridgette didn’t have to worry about _that_ humiliation. (Of course, if it hadn’t been working, she would have been bumped up the priority listing quite a bit). Less thankfully, though…  
  
“Gott en Himmel!” Bridgette screamed, banging her head against the wall. “I’m so fucking horny!”  
  
Bridgette was a young woman, with a young woman’s needs. And given that a cold shower would just mean more work for her armor’s exposed systems, that meant her only option was to spend time stewing in her frustrated lust and badgering the IT teams. She couldn’t even fight in this condition.  
  
Grumbling to herself, Bridgette paced back and forth, wincing at the way the heavy bulk of her armor rested on her hips. It was only when she saw the blinking light of an email for her that she managed to find even a brief distraction.  
  
Opening it, Bridgette skimmed over the text. Then a smile slowly started to form, stretching wider and wider. Oh yes. Oh _yes_. This would be the perfect solution to take her mind off of her troubles.

*******

“So what _does_ Widowmaker spend her days doing?”  
  
“Masturbating,” Captain Jin answered, a faint blush on her cheeks.  
  
“Masturbating?” Bridgette said, thinking for a second that she was even hornier than she had realized.  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” the head of brig security answered. “Almost all day long, except when she’s eating and sleeping.”  
  
“Huh,” Bridgette said, sitting back in her chair.  
  
When she had been tasked to design a new, escape proof way of holding Widowmaker, she had expected the transhuman assassin to do things differently than normal people. But she hadn’t expected Widowmaker to do things _this_ differently. Of course, that led to a follow-up question.  
  
“So did she masturbate her way into unlocking her cell door?” Bridgette asked, honestly curious about the answer she would get.  
  
“No, ma’am,” Captain Jin said, her blush only deepening as the topic moved from sexual activity to her professional failings. “Some of the men, well, they were so interested in- I just thought it was some harmless fun-.”  
  
Jin stumbled her way through an explanation of how Widowmaker had used a camera to escape imprisonment. Bridgette took plenty of notes, while considering an idea that was starting to form in her head. It wasn’t a very _nice_ idea, but lord, it was tempting.  
  
“Are you okay, ma’am?” Jin had stopped in her rambling justifications and explanations to look quizzically at Bridgette.  
  
The German woman was only now aware of how much she had been shifting around. Jin had passed over the details of Widowmaker’s constant masturbation and her guards exploitation of that, but it had still been enough to call up certain images to Bridgette’s mind. Sweating, soft blue skin, soft to the touch… Such thoughts lurked in the back of Bridgette’s mind, where she was barely aware of them.  
  
Obviously her thoughts weren’t as hidden from Jin. Bridgette flushed, wondering what the Chinese woman had seen on her face or in her body language.  
  
“It’s nothing,” Bridgette said. “Just something left over from Widowmaker’s attack.”  
  
That was even true, technically. If it hadn’t been for Widowmaker, Bridgette would have been able to masturbate freely, and wouldn’t have been so tempted by the thought of a French accent moaning in pleasure. Damn that Widowmaker.  
  
“I see,” Jin said, obviously not seeing at all. “As I was saying…”  
  
After the interview was over, Bridgette went to look over Widowmaker. She had been placed back into the standard cells, in fact, one that was directly opposite from the one she had broken out of. At least she hadn’t been provided with a camera to use again. Still, Bridgette could see why she had been called in.  
  
Bridgette had to stand on her toes a bit to look through the clear plastic window into Widowmaker’s new cell. And scowled as her involuntary chastity belt bumped against the cell door. And then her scowl smoothed into an embarrassed smile as her cheeks turned red.  
  
Widowmaker was doing her usual activity, flat on her back, with her hand blurring between her crotch. What a slut, Bridgette thought. Staring at the nearly naked assassin, Bridgette felt her plan solidify into certainty. This was surely the right choice. It wouldn’t give Widowmaker another chance to escape, and it would treat her as she so obviously wanted to be treated.  
  
And how Bridgette was beginning to wish she was being treated. She was _horny_ , with a capital H through Y. Yes, what she was planning could almost be called cruel, but she told herself it would also be _effective_. And Widowmaker wasn’t in any sort of condition to complain. In fact, as twisted as she obviously was, she would probably like the experience.  
  
Nodding, Bridgette leaned back down, satisfied. Satisfied, at least, until she felt the belt on her hips shift. Fuck, if this kept on going, she was going to end up _envying_ Widowmaker.

*******

Widowmaker was beyond speech now. She was Just. Too. Horny. She had used up the last of her strength, mental and otherwise, on her escape attempt. Her _failed_ escape attempt, which hadn’t gotten her anywhere close to an orgasm. Or an actual escape, which Widowmaker knew (even if she didn’t _feel_ ) would be just as good.  
  
And now she was being punished for it. Oh, Widowmaker knew that the so-called ‘heroes’ wouldn’t call it punishment. They would just say that her ‘unlawful attempt to leave Overwatch custody warrants a more thorough system of restraint and observation’. Whatever pretty words they used to dress it up as, Widowmaker could see the motives behind it.  
  
There was no other reason to leave her naked, after all. Before the escape attempt, whenever she inevitably ruined her clothing masturbating, Widowmaker had been given a new set of prison fatigues. But now, she was stark naked, without a single bit of cloth to hide anything.  
  
And just as Widowmaker knew it was an expression of the same perverted malice that had installed the camera she had used to escape. Just like the same lustful minds had put her frame facing the door, so anybody who wanted to could take a peek and see the notorious assassin stark naked and in all her lustful, needy glory.  
  
Oh, how Widowmaker hated the frame. Or maybe she loved it. It was so hard for her to decide, with so much of her mind uselessly chasing an orgasm that wasn’t coming. Widowmaker’s ankles and wrists were tied to a metal frame, with thick cuffs that Widowmaker didn’t have a prayer of breaking.  
  
And the same perverted mind that had confiscated her clothing had also been at work arranging Widowmaker’s pose. Her legs had been hauled up, above her head and pointing at the ceiling. That would have been enough to put her flushed, wet pussy on display, but her thighs had then been spread apart even further.  
  
Widowmaker was an open invitation for anybody who wanted to fuck her. And it wasn’t just because of how she was tied up. She really would welcome anybody who wanted to use her, even though she knew it wouldn’t do herself a lick of good. Widowmaker was so horny that she wanted someone’s dick or fingers or lips or _anything_.  
  
Anything beyond the evil rod that was currently filling her pussy. When Widowmaker had first seen her new restraint system, she had only had eyes for the steel dildo in the center of the frame. Even though she knew it would be cold at first, she had thought her body heat would quickly warm it up.  
  
Only to discover the true cruelty of whoever had designed this. The rod was inside her pussy, yes. But that was all it did. It didn’t vibrate, it didn’t move up and down, it didn’t do a single thing beyond stretch her pussy out. That would have been almost acceptable, if Widowmaker had a bit of freedom. She still could have bounced up and down on it, finally getting to feel something inside of her that wasn’t her fingers.  
  
But Widowmaker was bound tight to the frame. She could barely even move her hips back and forth, let alone bounce up and down. And she knew, aching with the frustrated need of so many weeks, that even if she could fuck herself like a porn star on the featureless shaft, it wouldn’t do her any good. She would just wear herself out even faster.  
  
But Widowmaker still wanted to do it. She _craved_ the sensations she was denied, needing them more than any other feeling she had felt since she woke up under Moria’s knife. She needed to cum so badly. It didn’t even have to be a strong orgasm, not the body-shaking, brain-blasting orgasms she could get from the control codes. It could just be a tiny thing, just enough to let her _relax_ a bit.  
  
But Widowmaker knew that any sort of orgasm was out of her reach. She was stuck here, sexually frustrated beyond belief, and with no more idea on how to escape. If anything was enough to make her cry, this would have been it.  
  
But she didn’t. Instead, Widowmaker just kept on twitching in her tight restraints, feeling the vibrator that was still inside her buzzing endlessly away, triggered by the guards outside her cell.

*******

Mercy smiled as she prepared her tools. It wasn’t a reassuring smile, something that would reassure a patient about to go under the knife. Instead, it was a lustful smile, brimming with a twisted energy.  
  
Mercy was looking forward to the job she had been assigned. Command was still worried about Widowmaker, even after she had been put into enhanced restraints. They thought the killer could still break out of it, and wanted some reassurance.  
  
Therefore, Mercy had been told to implant a tracker into Widowmaker. Something to ensure that all her stealth skills were useless, and that (once the computers were finally reassembled) she could be tracked anywhere she went inside the Overwatch complex. An easy enough job for someone with Mercy’s skills.  
  
As Mercy leaned over to adjust her tools, she paused to shiver. The movement had made her breasts shift inside her armor, and it sent tingles scurrying through her body. Even after two weeks, Mercy still wasn’t getting used to how good her breasts felt after her Caduceus upgrades. Her newfound sensitivity always made her feel so _eager_.  
  
And, usually, Pharah was there, and just as eager to help Mercy relax together. But her girlfriend had been gone to South Sudan for the past three days, three days were Mercy had steadily gotten hornier and hornier. Which was why this now seemed like a good idea.  
  
Humming to herself, Mercy set out for the brig, slightly smiling to herself at the thought of how fun this would be. Not only would it help secure a dangerous criminal, it would also be a brand new procedure for Mercy. She had exhaustively reviewed it, so she was sure she knew what she was doing. But there was still the thrill in pushing the boundaries of her skill outward.  
  
Stepping into Widowmaker’s cell, Mercy stopped to admire the sheer beauty of the sight in front of her. She didn’t like Widowmaker, what she stood for, or how she came to be. But she had to admit, right now, the assassin was quite the attractive sight. Mercy enjoyed putting others in bondage, and could really appreciate Widowmaker’s new restraint system, in a far more meaningful manner than someone who just saw a naked woman on display.  
  
Mercy stood in front of Widowmaker, waiting for the Talon operative to realize she was there. It also gave her a chance to admire the sexy mess in front of her. Mercy felt her own arousal growing as she watched the blue-skinned woman minutely twitch and jerk, uselessly trying to get the orgasm she could never reach.  
  
Mercy was equally fascinated and repulsed by the modifications Talon had done to Widowmaker. The sheer skill needed was phenomenal, and matched only by the cruelty. Mercy had recognized the signature of Moria just by reading the preliminary examination of Widowmaker after she had been captured. Everything, from the orgasm blocker to the vibrator was so skillfully installed it would have taken all of Mercy’s skill to remove it. And instead, she was going to _add_ to it, with this chip.  
  
What she was doing was nothing in comparison. Widowmaker most likely wouldn’t even notice a change. Certainly not if she stayed locked up like this.  
  
Finally, Widowmaker’s eyes focused on Mercy. The French woman shuddered as another wave of arousal ran through her. Her full lips were parted slightly as she fought for air and Mercy’s eyes were drawn to her breasts as they shook.  
  
Mercy could see why a camera had been installed for the guards to enjoy. Widowmaker looked like she was ready to fuck the entire base and have a great time while doing it. Mercy could sympathize, really.  
  
She was feeling pretty horny herself, and Mercy’s arousal was only growing as she watched Widowmaker. Mercy’s state of arousal was already bothersome, and the thought of not ever being able to get an orgasm, and to constantly be stimulated was awful. Especially because Mercy was already getting constantly stimulated, and was still only able to relieve herself after a long time spend with her slowly expanding collection of toys or Pharah.  
  
“Please,” a cracked voice said, intruding on Mercy’s lustful thoughts. “Let me cum.”  
  
It was Widowmaker. The need filled her voice, with an intensity Mercy had rarely heard before. Widowmaker looked like she was willing to do or say anything to anyone, if only she could get an orgasm. If Mercy felt more confident in her ability to revert the changes, she would have been pushing to use Widowmaker’s sexual frustration to get her to switch sides, with the promise of a series of intense climaxes waiting for her on the other side.  
  
Sadly, all Mercy could do with the tools she had was the bare minimum of what Widowmaker’s enhancements suggested. But that would have to be enough. And not only would that be a useful expansion of her skills, she could get some fun at the very same time.  
  
“Widowmaker, I’m not going to let you cum,” Mercy said, sounding far sterner than she thought. “Because you’ve been such a bad girl,” Mercy’s eyes flashed over Widowmaker’s exposed body and she licked her lips. “Such a very bad girl, I’m here to make certain you behave better in the future.”  
  
Widowmaker’s eyes slowly focused on her. Mercy thought that she was paying attention to what she was saying, and not just seeing her as a possible source of orgasm. Widowmaker still didn’t say anything, either not seeing Mercy as worth wasting breath on, or too horny to form words.  
  
“First,” Mercy said, holding up the tracker, “I’ll implant this inside you, so that we can see you wherever you are.” She waited for Widowmaker’s eyes to focus on the unusually large shape of the tracker. “And then we’ll see if you can learn to be a good girl. At least for a while.”  
  
Mercy couldn’t decide which part of the procedure she was looking forward to more. Expanding her skill set, or having Widowmaker eat her out. Intellectual pleasure or that of the body? She would have to see what was more fun.  
  
It wasn’t even like she was cheating on Pharah. For one, her girlfriend knew about how horny Mercy constantly was, and had given her blessing for Mercy to do whatever was needed to get off when Pharah wasn’t around. For another, it was hard to think of Widowmaker as someone that Mercy would feel an emotional attachment to. Especially given the frame she was strapped to. It was more like she was a piece of furniture for Mercy to use.  
  
Satisfied that she was doing the right thing, Mercy got to work. She knelt down in front of Widowmaker’s bare pussy, and considered how best to go about this. She had never had to deal with a case of arousal like this. If she had just been installing a tracking chip into Widowmaker like the French woman was a dog, it would have been easy enough to ignore.  
  
But since Mercy was planning to pierce Widowmaker’s clit with a barbell that had the tracker built inside, the constant arousal flowing out from Widowmaker’s lips was a real concern. She’d just have to mop it up, Mercy supposed. And she also thought that Widowmaker should be very grateful to her for touching her pussy.  
  
It was a good thing that Widowmaker was already restrained so thoroughly. Mercy didn’t need to worry about a sudden jerk making the needle go awry. Just a touch of local anesthetic so that Widowmaker wouldn’t feel anything. And- Mercy frowned, thinking things over. No, the steel dildo inside Widowmaker’s pussy shouldn’t get in her way. She’d leave it inside Widowmaker as she worked.  
  
Even with the area around her clit numbed, Widowmaker was still very horny. As Mercy bent over her work, she could hear the meaningless whines and moans from the French assassin above her. And underneath her fingers, there was a constant flow of arousal, enough that Mercy had to keep on mopping it up.  
  
The procedure only took a short while. Nothing compared to some of the surgeries Mercy had done. When she was done, she sat back on her heels, examining her handiwork. And she saw it was good.  
  
A gleaming gold barbell framed Widowmaker’s clit. On each side of the nub, two golden balls glittered. Gleamed, even, since Mercy had polished them up after installing the barbell in Widowmaker. She felt quite certain that even if Widowmaker got her hands free, she would never be able to bring herself to remove the piercing, even though she knew it was a tracker.  
  
In fact, she might even end up grateful for it. There was a possibility that it would enhance Widowmaker’s sensitivity. And another possibility that the increased sensitivity would be enough to make Widowmaker cum. Mercy didn’t think there was a huge chance of that happening, but she would _love_ it if it happened. Bypassing Moria’s work in a single, simple procedure would be something that Mercy would treasure for a long time, if it happened.  
  
“The procedure was a success,” Mercy said, standing up and patting Widowmaker’s pussy. The blue-skinned woman jerked at the contact. The anesthetic must be wearing off. “Now it’s time for the _second_ part,” Mercy said, an anticipatory smile spreading across her face.  
  
It was the work of a moment to step out of the lower half of her uniform. Mercy smiled as she watched Widowmaker watch her strip. She wondered how often the Talon operative had wished for someone to come in and fuck her. Well, she would be disappointed today, though she would at least be getting something to eat beyond her prison fare.  
  
It felt good to strip, Mercy thought. The arousal from her breasts had been building and building all through the operation. And while her breasts were still getting rubbed and stimulated by her armor, it was still wonderful to strip and let the cool air of the cell wash over her lower body.  
  
“You see this pussy?” Mercy asked, pushing her hips out and spreading her lower lips open with two fingers. “I’m going to put this soaked slit right over your mouth, and you’re going to lick and lick until I cum.”  
  
Mercy didn’t bother to say how long that would probably take. It was easier to cum with someone else than just by herself, but it still took a while. But Mercy had cleared her schedule for over an hour, and it wasn’t as if Widowmaker had somewhere to be.  
  
Mercy paused for a moment, waiting for Widowmaker to say something. But all the Talon operative did with her mouth was raggedly moan, so Mercy took that as an invitation. And a good thing, too, since Mercy was soaked with arousal.  
  
Widowmaker was low enough to the ground that Mercy could just straddle her face without having to strain herself. She did so, looking down at Widowmaker’s face. The assassin looked out of it, her eyes gazing past Mercy at nothing in particular.  
  
But Widowmaker still knew what to do when presented with a pussy. After only half a minute, she started licking, her tongue darting out from her full lips to run along Mercy’s slit. Mercy smiled in satisfaction. She wondered how Widowmaker had learned to eat pussy even when her mind was elsewhere. And how many other women had taken advantage of Widowmaker’s skills.  
  
Mercy dug her fingers into Widowmaker’s black hair and closed her eyes. She was going to enjoy this. It had been much too long since she had last cum, and she needed relief. Since she felt so tense and out of sorts, Mercy had to wonder how Widowmaker felt, after going so much longer without an orgasm.  
  
Well, as Pharah would say, that was only the just rewards of choosing to work with evil. An organization like Talon screwing over its operatives wasn’t really all that surprising. But even if Widowmaker would have to continue in frustrated lust for a long, long time, there was no reason Mercy had to do the same.  
  
Mercy sighed as Widowmaker really got to work. Her tongue flicked in and out, licking Mercy’s lower lips. Her lips suckled at Mercy’s clit, nursing the nub that was poking out. It felt wonderful, and felt even better as Mercy raised her hands to start playing with her breasts. It was a bit hard to do so through her armor, but Mercy knew where the gaps in her protection were, and could slide her hands through them to cup her firm, sensitive breasts.  
  
“That’s it, right there,” Mercy murmured, her lips curling upwards in a smile. “You’re doing such a good job, Widowmaker.”  
  
Mercy’s hips started to rock back and forth, grinding herself against Widowmaker’s face. Occasionally, she looked down and saw more and more of her arousal smeared across Widowmaker’s cheeks and chin. It was a beautiful sight, and one that Mercy knew she wouldn’t forget. Even if Widowmaker somehow did escape and they saw each other on the opposite side of the battlefield, Mercy knew that she would still see the panting, needy, arousal-smeared face of the blue-skinned woman underneath her.  
  
Sure, Widowmaker probably wouldn’t respond to any teasing about that, but it would still warm Mercy’s heart. As opposed to right now, when her lower body was generating heat. Mercy was starting to feel good, really, _really_ good.  
  
Mercy sighed in happiness as the tingle of arousal ran through her, gradually strengthening as Widowmaker kept on working in between her legs. The French woman had a very skilled tongue which didn’t really surprise Mercy all that much. She ran her fingers through Widowmaker’s long, black hair as Widowmaker kept on attending to her pussy, her tongue and lips working magic on Mercy’s folds.  
  
“You’re such a good girl,” Mercy whispered, barely loud enough for Widowmaker to hear. “And doesn’t it feel good to be a good girl? Working between my legs, getting such a tasty treat?”  
  
And Mercy _knew_ her arousal was tasty. It had been ever since her early twenties, when a girlfriend had complained about the odd taste. A few weeks later, and Mercy’s arousal tasted like a blend of half a dozen different fruit juices. She wasn’t sure that Widowmaker was in a position to realize what a treat she was getting though. Widowmaker certainly _looked_ like she was running on autopilot, her tongue and lips bringing Mercy pleasure without anything else involved.  
  
And that was still enough for Mercy. She looked back up and kept on grinding her crotch against Widowmaker’s face. She could feel her orgasm rising, growing closer and closer. Maybe just another five minutes, and she would be able to cum.  
  
Widowmaker’s groans of arousal were muffled by Mercy’s pussy. But Mercy more than made up for the relative silence, moaning as Widowmaker licked and sucked on her folds. Her movements were getting more and more jerky as the pleasure built up inside of her.  
  
Finally, it reached the breaking point. Mercy dug down into the sides of Widowmaker’s head as she came. Her entire body quivered as her pussy squeezed down around nothing at all.  
  
“Yes! Oh, yes, yes!” Mercy called out, throwing her head back in pleasure. “Right there, you’ve got it right there!”  
  
Mercy’s hips jerked back and forth and from side to side, smearing her arousal all over Widowmaker’s skin. Arousal ran out from her, flowing down and coating Widowmaker’s tongue. It felt simply divine, the built-up stress of the past few days getting expunged in a single glorious release.  
  
Slowly, gingerly, Mercy climbed off of Widowmaker’s face. She looked down at the blue-skinned woman and saw it was good. Her arousal was spread all over Widowmaker’s lower face, glistening in the light. She looked unbelievably sexy, even with the vacant, spaced-out expression she had. Mercy wished she had a camera to take some pictures for later. As it was, all she could do was try to burn the image into her mind.  
  
Mercy slowly get dressed, enjoying the tingles still running through her body. She knew she would get horny again, probably before today was even over. But she thought that now she could wait until Pharah came back. Of course, maybe she could bring Pharah down to have some fun with Widowmaker as well. That would be quite the most exotic sex session Mercy had ever had.  
  
After she was dressed, Mercy made sure to clean Widowmaker’s face. She didn’t much like the woman, but that was no reason to leave her an unhygienic mess. Stepping back, Mercy looked down at Widowmaker and smiled.  
  
It wasn’t often that she could combine work and pleasure into the same operation.

*******

“Oh! Oooohhhhh!”  
  
D.Va moaned as she ran her mech along the testing track. She had highly mixed feelings about the new upgrades that had been made to Tokki. Well, that wasn’t quite right. She liked the upgrades and the knock-on effects, but she wasn’t sure that she should.  
  
Some of the upgrades were unambiguously good. More power for her guns and shields was great to have, no questions there. But, uh, the new reactor that powered Tokki was a bit more unusual.  
  
For one, it had been moved from the top of her mech to its center, right underneath the piloting station. And by right underneath, D.Va meant _right_ underneath. There was a bulge that stuck up from it, right into the piloting station, between D.Va’s legs. And it wasn’t between her ankles.  
  
That wouldn’t have been too bad, except for the side effects of the increased power generation and draw. The reactor, and the mech in general, vibrated _all the time_. Not very strongly, necessarily, but if D.Va wanted to use her barriers or guns or do anything but walk Tokki at an ambling pace, the vibrations really picked up.  
  
Like, really picked up. D.Va had once tried out a sybian, and the new upgrades were strongly reminding her of it. It had even been in pretty similar circumstances, actually. Hana had been recording a gaming stream, and, since she knew the game backwards and forwards and her opponent was far too slow to be a challenge, she had decided to spice things up.  
  
That had been an _intense_ match, and D.Va still vividly remembered it long after plenty of other matches had faded into a fuzzy memory. She was glad that she had never released that stream, and only she and a few other people even knew it existed. And now it seemed that she would be making plenty of new memories to join it. After all, she was still streaming, and there was still a camera centered on her face, even as the reactor ridge buzzed and vibrated, pressed right against her crotch.  
  
D.Va hadn’t been out on the field yet since the new reactor was installed. But she _knew_ her fans were going to get quite the sight once she pwned the forces of darkness (or, at least, of non-Overwatch). She was already cumming every five minutes or so, just in the practice area where she could control everything that happened.  
  
D.Va had her reputation to consider, and letting thousands of people watching her cum over and over again would give her the _wrong_ kind of reputation. D.Va was fine with being cute, even a bit sexy. But she didn’t want to be thought of as a slut.  
  
And D.Va knew that there was no way she would be able to hide her orgasm. She knew how expressive she could get, and that was doubled, or even trebled, during her orgasms. Everybody would be able to see her jaw falling open, her eyes rolling back in her head, see all the signs of a well-fucked whore.  
  
That, that would be- well, right now it sounded good. But D.Va knew that was because of the vibrating ridge pressed against her crotch, making _everything_ sound good. She couldn’t think like this.  
  
D.Va kicked Tokki up a notch, her mech sprinting along the course. The vibrations picked up, the ridge buzzing against her pussy. D.Va’s moans were lost in the sound of the mech’s feet slamming against the churned-up mud. Half by accident, D.Va pushed another button, and her mech’s jets engaged, lifting her into the air.  
  
“Yes! Yes, yes, yesssssssss!”  
  
And that wasn’t the only thing that got lifted. D.Va twitched and rolled around inside her mech, screaming in orgasm. The orgasm was sweet, rolling through her and filling her up. She barely had the presence of mind to properly land Tokki, the mech splashing mud up it’s feet and legs as it landed.  
  
And all the while, the reactor kept on vibrating, pressed against D.Va’s crotch. The intensity of it died down, but she could still feel it, humming against her pussy. D.Va panted for breath, shoulders heaving as the pleasure slowly washed out of her. Even as she was filled back up again by the buzzing ridge.  
  
D.Va hung limply inside the cockpit, gasping for breath. That had been intense. Too intense, really. If she was in combat, an orgasm like that would _not_ be a good idea. And that wasn’t even considering the damage to her reputation.  
  
As good as this orgasm had felt, she was going to have to go back to the old model. If she couldn’t control herself, she couldn’t control the mech, and what good was she in the fight?  
  
She slowly turned Tokki around and headed back to the hanger. D.Va, even so soon after her orgasm, still squirmed as she felt her lust start to grow again, her body stimulated by the ridge. Maybe she didn’t need to get rid of _all_ of the mech’s new features. She already had plenty of junk- _memorabilia_ scattered around her quarters. One piece more wouldn’t be that out of place.  
  
It would be fun to have constant orgasms on command.

*******

Widowmaker hung limply in her restraints. She was too tired to move. Almost too tired to think.  
  
Widowmaker had passed through the rapids of endless arousal and come out on some far side. She was still horny, desperately so. But she had come to terms with it. With the aching need inside of her and the lack of anything she could do to change it.  
  
It was impossible to free herself or to cum or to do anything. So Widowmaker didn’t try to. She just stayed here, feeling the heat inside her pussy and the stiffness of her nipples.  
  
She didn’t even try to move her hips anymore, in an attempt to grind the clit piercing against the dildo to get some extra stimulation. It wouldn’t help her cum, so why bother? Widowmaker just sat there, legs up, pussy on display, feeling the endless hunger inside her lower belly.  
  
There was only one possible hope left for Widowmaker. Sombra had managed to send her a stealthed message. The hacker hadn’t included the control codes for orgasm, of course. All she had said was that Widowmaker should stay where she was, and that sooner or later, Sombra would come for her.  
  
That message had been what had helped Widowmaker make peace with her situation. An orgasm would come, eventually. All she had to do until then was wait. Wait, and accept that her body was a churning mass of arousal. Wait, and accept that she was dripping with need. Wait, and wait for Sombra.  
  
That was all Widowmaker could do.


End file.
